


I Won't Give Up

by caleprwrite



Series: Kinktober [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers Tower, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner is HUNG, Choking, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Guilt, Reader-Insert, Rejection, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, body image issues, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-12 23:16:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16005347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleprwrite/pseuds/caleprwrite
Summary: Reader and Bruce have been in a relationship that comes to a grinding halt when the Other Guy destroys something on a mission, hurting the reader in the process. Really it was just a case of wrong place, wrong time.Guilt-ridden and withdrawn, Bruce pulls away when she reaches out. She's convinced he only sees her as broken, so he doesn't want her anymore.They're both living in a world of miscommunication and what-ifs. It will take both of them to either make it or break it.





	I Won't Give Up

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Inspired by the song "I Won't Give Up" by Jason Mraz.
> 
> Meets the following for Kinktober:  
> 2\. Begging  
> 14\. Asphyxiation  
> 23\. Scars
> 
> T/W: Cannon-Typical Violence, Rough Sex, Choking

**Thank I Won’t Give Up**

Just inside, through the glass doors.

You only had to take a few steps, it wasn’t that far. No big deal, right?

You could do it.

There he sat, button up shirt and lab coat covering the olive skin below, skin you knew to be soft and warm, practically made for your hands and lips. His thick salt and pepper hair was curly and shaggy, just long enough to tempt you to card your fingers through it.

Bruce’s normally kind features were set in serious concentration, dark eyes cast downward as he studied the most recent attempt to replicate the formula. Because if he could replicate it, then maybe, he could develop an antidote for it, a way to fix you.

But you needed to tell him. He had already spent so much time and energy, literal blood, sweat and tears on it.

It was simple, really. Five little words. Two simple sentences.

_I’m okay. They can stay._

It shouldn’t have been so difficult to talk to him. He was a good man, one of the best you had ever known, but if you were honest… If you told him it was okay, then he would have to learn to live with it. Learn to let it go and not beat himself up every time he looked at you, into your now violet eyes.

He didn’t mean to cause this, and he didn’t, really. It was all the Other Guy and your own stubbornness. But to Bruce, he and the Other Guy, they were one and the same. They were to you in a way, too, but you also had the ability to look at their actions objectively.

The thing was, you really didn’t care about the antidote anymore. You didn’t give a damn about the hows and whys; you just wanted him back.

You wanted him to look at you with the love and gentleness that you had come to adore. That expression turned to nothing but sorrow and guilt every time he laid eyes on you for months now. You knew. You could tell all he saw was your unconscious body, broken and bleeding and exposed to the biologically engineered organisms released when the Other Guy destroyed the bunker.

They entered directly into your bloodstream through the multiple open wounds from the explosion. You were where you shouldn’t have been and as a result paid for it dearly. But you were stubborn like that, and to be honest, deep down you knew one day it would bite you in the ass.

You felt for Bruce and knew he’d always blame himself. All he heard in his nightmares were the shouts of the team, Steve barking orders to evacuate, Tony’s expletive-infused rant on the complicated containment that was needed, and Wanda’s pleading for him to get your unresponsive body out of there so she could use her magic to move the poisonous cloud away from the rest of the population.

Yes, there were permanent, lasting consequences. There were symbiotic organisms released in the explosion, successfully attaching themselves to your brain stem, but just you, you reasoned. No civilians were involved.

Because they drew their energy from your nervous system, your body wasn’t as strong as it once was. Your eyes changed to violet and you had the worst night vision ever. Your once toned, near flawless skin was now scarred from the incident. The nerve damage and multiple surgeries meant you lost muscle mass and moved a little slower, but the things that made you _you_ hadn’t changed.

You still had the same heart, full of love and the intrinsic need to help others. You were still part of the team, just an armored part now, _thank you,Tony._ But what was more, and most importantly, you still loved him more than words could ever describe.

The only thing that could rival your love for Bruce was the heartache you felt by losing him in the end. You lost him to the endless nights spent in the lab, researching, experimenting and failing. Even when he was out of the lab, there was a distance between the two of you that had nothing to do with geographical location and everything to do with him putting the unnecessary blame solely on himself for something that in the end, you were pretty much _almost_ okay with.

In fact, you would be okay with it if he would just stop being such a hard-headed pain in the ass and quit blaming himself. If he would just look at you and see you as whole, maybe a little different than before, but not broken or damaged or _less than._

He hadn’t touched you since it happened, probably because Bruce blamed himself, but it was hard to reason when you were rejected after something like that. Both times you tried to initiate intimacy, he pulled away so fast it was like your skin was on fire. There hadn’t been a third time; your spirit was too broken to make another attempt.

He was what was missing in your life, and you were beginning to lose hope in ever finding him again. So you breathed deep, steeled yourself for a final rejection and took the steps, through the glass doors.

“Bruce,” you called softly but there was no answer.

You didn’t take the lack of an answer personally, knowing from experience that when Bruce had his nose buried in a microscope or complex scientific equations, he didn’t always hear you. So you tried again.

You wanted him to look up with his sweet smile, to call you by his name for you before it all happened, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. It was something reserved for when it was just the two of you. You were alone with him now, but there was no intimacy left between the two of you, not after the way he’d repeatedly rejected you.

You swallowed over the lump forming in your throat from the memory.

“Hey, Bruce?”

He heard you that time and sat back at the sound of your voice. You stood and waited for him to turn to you. When he did, his eyes flicked up to yours for a moment before dropping as he beat himself up again.

That’s how it went between you now. A brief connection, then the distance, followed by a chill in the air as he regarded you objectively.

“Hey, uh, everything okay?” he asked quietly, eyes roaming over your body carefully, looking for any sign of injury or illness or _worsening._ There was the chill.

“I need to talk to you.”

You watched his brow furrow the slightest bit as he looked back to the microscope on the table. You knew the look. He was on the edge of a breakthrough, and he really didn’t want to tear his attention away from it.

You understood. You were science-brained, too but in all honesty, that time it pissed you off. Perhaps that was precisely what you needed.

“Bruce,” you called again, this time with less patience, demanding, “look at me.”

He glanced back to you and there was worry in his eyes before he look you over objectively. “What is it, are you okay? Another symptom?”

You frowned, stalking forward to him and caught his jaw in your hands, forcing him to look into your changed eyes. He tensed at the contact and tried to pull away the slightest bit, just enough to let you know he wanted you to let him go.

But you really didn’t give a shit anymore.

You didn’t care if he liked it or not, because this was the last time you were going to fight for what you had with him. If it didn’t work… If he truly was gone, then you’d have to figure out how to let go too. But not without one last try.

“Look at me. Please, I need you to _see me.”_

You hoped he understood what you meant. He closed his eyes and brought his hands up to cover your own. You could tell he was struggling. The warmth of his hands over your own and the shuddering of his breath as he stood in place, eyes closed, encouraged you.

“I’m still here. I’m here and I need you.”

He opened his eyes and looked down at you, the familiar dark brown of his eyes that always made you feel warm and safe was dark, deliberately distant. His hands clasped your own tighter but then pushed them down, away from his face and he turned away.

His head and shoulders slumped in defeat, and the sight of him pulling away from you like that broke your heart. It really _was_ over.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said quietly just as you were about to walk away.

“Then stop doing it! Please,” you begged. Your voice wavered but you pushed. “I only ever wanted _you,_ and now I’ve lost you.”

You held out your arms and looked down at yourself. In a small voice, you asked, “Am I that awful to look at?”

“What? No! Why would you say that?” He demanded, head whipping around to look at you, brow furrowed as he shook his head.

“Because you won’t touch me! You won’t even look at me… I know I’m not-” you shuddered a breath. He went to interrupt but you cut him off. You had to get it all out, had to do it quickly before the tears really came and made it impossible to finish it all.

“I’m not as strong as I was, I know that. I’m slower and - and I’m softer. I’m built different now. If you don’t want that… I mean, if I’m not what you want-” you gestured again to your body. There wasn’t anything left to say, so you choked out the last of what you had as the tears burned hot in your eyes.

“It’s still me…”

He studied you as you stood there, heart bare and exposed. Your body trembled from the adrenaline rush of convincing yourself to lay it all out on the line. You wrapped your arms around yourself because you felt naked after finally admitting out loud what you thought caused his rejection to your attempts at intimacy, after months of hoping he’d come back to you.

You weren’t built for that shit. Science, numbers, black and white… That’s where you excelled. Good versus evil, right versus wrong, those were the kind of problems you were comfortable with, but this whole putting yourself out there thing? No thank you.

It felt like an eternity as you stood there, waiting for something, anything. You knew he wasn’t ignoring you- it was that analytical brain of his that was processing everything you blurted out at him. Even so, time still crawled, making your skin do the same.

He looked down and shook his head. When your eyes met again, his were darkened in frustration.

“How could you think I don’t want you? Because you look different?” He stepped closer. “What, because you don’t run and fight as hard and as fast, I’m supposed to think less of you?”

There was an edge to his voice that was beginning to sound like the Other Guy and you took a step back. He followed you and stalked closer.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. That’s _never_ changed.”

The words that should have made you happy seemed to do just the opposite. You stepped forward into the space the Other Guy was threatening to occupy, ignoring the tone that indicated Bruce was doing his level best to keep him under control. At that point you really didn’t give two shits if it turned into a mess in the lab.

Again.

You were pissed.

“You sure have a _fucked up_ way of showing it, then! How am I _supposed_ to feel when you pull away from me every time I try to touch you? What does that say to me, _huh?”_ you demanded, your tone rising with each question. You pushed against his chest with the last one and he looked away. His jaw muscle jumped and his hands were in fists; you knew he was trying to control his breathing.

“Look at me, goddammit! I _know_ you don’t see me the same. My body’s all soft and scarred up now. What would _you_ think if suddenly the person you loved completely shut you out after something like that?”

His eyes flashed green in anger and he surged forward, grabbing you by the hips and slamming you against the glass wall. The sudden movement took you by surprise and your eyes widened, breath temporarily leaving your lungs from the impact.

“Is this what you want?” he growled, voice deepening with the Other Guy. “I don’t want to touch you because I hurt you! I swore I wouldn’t-”

You cut him off with a kiss, hot and desperate and messy, claiming his mouth with your own. In an instant, he took over and your breath hitched when he caught your lips between his teeth. He growled out a moan and picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Bruce,” you begged, tipping your head back to give him as much of your skin as he wanted, his mouth claiming your neck.

You pushed his lab coat off his shoulders and he let go of you long enough to shrug the rest of the way out and drop it on the floor. Your hands found their way to his hair and your fingers twined through those soft curls, tugging in pleasure when he found the secret little spot on your neck that always drove you crazy.

Another feral growl broke free of him as he bit down into the skin and sucked relentlessly, kissing your neck, marking you deep. The sharp intensity of it made a delicious warmth pool low in your belly. His hands grabbed your ass and held you hard enough to bruise, your body caught between his filling erection and the wall as he pressed against your core, grinding into you.

One hand came up between the two of you and held your throat. He squeezed just tight enough to make your heart skip and remind you who was really in charge. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes when he pulled back to look at you and you nodded, begging him to go on. God, you missed his touch.

“Is this really what you want?” he asked, breath hot and soft as he whispered against your lips. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t, I promise. _Please,”_ you begged into his mouth.  

He nodded, finally coming to terms with the fact that after everything, you still weren’t afraid of him. That’s when everything shifted.

He kissed you, gentle and deep. The velvety smooth heat of his tongue exploring your mouth after so long and the way he slowed, taking his time had you whimpering for more.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve missed you so much,” he confessed against your lips, rolling his hips up and teasing your core with his erection.

“Please... I need you, _Bruce…”_ you whimpered his name as his hand roamed up your shirt and inside your bra. His fingers teased the stiff peak of your nipple and he grabbed a handful of your breast harder, teasing the soft flesh as he kissed you again.

He managed to pull away from your mouth long enough to call over his shoulder an order to lock down the lab. He looked back to you, a playful and boyish smile settling across his features, lighting up his eyes. “And Jarvis, activate protocol Banner-1969.”

_‘Completed, Doctor Banner.’_

The glass walls of the lab went opaque and a notification beeped twice, signaling the cameras had shut down. You pulled him closer, nipping playfully at his lips and raising an eyebrow. “Where were we, _Doctor Banner?”_

He growled into your mouth again and carried you over to one of the sofas in the corner, conveniently placed for when he or Tony were too close to a breakthrough to leave the lab for something as trivial as sleep. He knelt down and lowered you carefully before leaning in again and taking his time.

His lips traced your skin, slowly and lovingly as he removed your shirt, then your pants. You flushed under his gaze, nervous since this was the first time you were intimate in so long, and your body wasn’t what either of you were used to anymore.

Your heart was beating fast and hard, making your voice shake. You felt like a kid again, fumbling under a lover’s gaze for the first time.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you,” he murmured below your ear and your breath hitched again at the pet name. He always had been able to read you better than anyone. All he ever had to do was try.

When your shirt was completely off, his lips followed the valley between your breasts, kissing and sucking lightly at the skin there. He reached behind you, fingers deftly finding the clasp to your bra. He slid the straps down your arms, his lips not once leaving your skin.

When he pulled back to look at you, you could tell the sight of the scarred skin along the left side of your abdomen and across your chest wall took him back to that day. You sat up and cupped his jaw, bringing his eyes back to yours and kissing him softly.

“Hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, “I’m okay.”

The insistence with which he kissed you intensified and he pushed you back, covering you with his body, protective and possessive all at once.

“I’m sorry baby, I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“I love you, Bruce,” you breathed into his mouth. “Please, don’t apologize. It was on me. It’s not your fault.”

He gently cupped your jaw with one hand and rested above you on his forearms, kissing you deep, trying his best to put an end to the blame the two of you were passing back and forth. The only way to keep it quiet, to silence the guilt you both carried was to busy yourselves with rediscovering each other’s bodies.

You unbuttoned a couple of his buttons but soon became impatient. When you untucked his shirt from his pants and pulled it up over his head, the thick curls of his hair were a mess. It was adorable and you smiled into his kiss, happiness radiating from you.

“What’s got that smile on your lips, huh baby?” he teased.

“You do,” you murmured, running your fingers through his soft hair, messing it up more, “it’s all because of you.”

The two of you stayed that way, showering each other with affection and becoming reacquainted with each other after so long. You tried taking your time, but there came a point where you couldn’t wait any longer. Your need for him became too much.

When you reached down and palmed his length through his slacks, the friction your hand created flipped a switch and his entire body tensed. He was like a live wire crackling with energy. His hand clamped down on your hip _hard,_ and he fisted the pliant fabric of your underwear, pulling them down impatiently.

 _“Off. Now,”_ he ordered, eyes flashing green again and you were all too happy to do as you were told.

That was the thing about Bruce. One moment he was the sweetest, most gentle man and the next, he had his hand wrapped around your throat or he was ripping your clothes off. It wouldn’t be accurate to say there was no in between, because there was… It was just so brief, if you weren’t looking you’d miss it for sure.

Most people did.

The way you missed it was altogether different. You missed it like a parched man misses water, desperately and all consuming.

Bruce pulled the fabric halfway down and sat back on his knees, removing them the rest of the way. His eyes devoured your body before his hands went to his belt, making quick work of it and the rest of his clothes.

The sight of him achingly hard for you, heavy and leaking made your mouth water. When he pressed down on you, bracketing you in with his body, there was nothing ambiguous about his intentions.

You were his, and he was going to remind you _exactly_ what that meant.

You rolled your hips up against him, desperate for more. When the fat head of his cock pressed against you, nudging you open, you nodded and begged his name again.

“Please, I need you. _Oh god… Bruce,”_ you breathed against his mouth.

When his hand slid down your body, hooking under a knee and bringing it up high to open you up better, you held your breath, not even realizing how far gone you were. He pushed forward with a possessive growl until he was deep inside of you, stopping only when you let your breath out in a pained cry of absolute pleasure.

The stretch and fullness you’d missed for so long was a bit more than your body could handle all at once, and the two of you were clearly out of practice. Bruce’s length and girth was more than you could usually take straight away, so he slowly slid back. When he did, the heavy drag of his cock against your walls lit a fire deep in your core.

“More,” you demanded, not caring about the pain or the need to take it slow. “Oh my god _,_ give me _more!”_

He was hardly a man to not give what you demanded, so with another possessive growl, he slammed home, driving into you until he was buried to the hilt, sheathed completely within your body. You cried out louder that time, utter need lacing the pleasure in your voice.

“Yeah, oh my god, so good,” you beamed up at him, tears gathering in the corners of your violet eyes.

He stilled so your body could better accommodate his size and peppered your face with kisses. You opened your eyes again and the look you received back was one of absolute love and wonder. The way he looked at you when you took him fully was something you’d always treasure.

“You still want me, even after everything,” he asked incredulously, moving gently, still holding back. The tension in his body was palpable, muscles rigid and breathing controlled.

You reached up and kissed him, deep and desperate and demanding. “I love you,” you murmured into his waiting mouth. “I love all of you, and I want all of you.”

You clenched your walls around him and he squeezed his eyes shut with a groan, still trying to stay in control. You read him easily - he needed you to show him what you could take, what you were okay with, so you kissed his shoulder and reached back, lacing your fingers with his and bringing his hand down to your breast.

His mouth followed and your head fell back in a sigh, the feel of his tongue licking and teasing was heaven. His hips moved carefully with the firm, squeezing pressure of his hand on your flesh.

Your plan worked because it quickly turned into more. He sucked hard and bit into your flesh, losing himself in your body.

“Oh my god, _yeah,”_ you whispered, rolling your hips along with him and holding onto his torso. Your skin was bright pink and sensitive beyond belief with the roughness of his mouth and it was the best thing you’d had in far too long. You dug your heels into the muscle of his ass and his lips released your flesh with an obscene wet ‘pop’.

His eyes met yours and instantly you knew you found what you’d lost. The flash of green and deepening of his voice as he groaned your name went straight to your core.

“Mine,” he growled and snapped his hips forward _hard,_ driving into you relentlessly, again and again.

And this, this was what you needed. You needed _all_ of him to claim you, take you, possess you, bring you back home. You didn’t want him to tread carefully, to keep the Other Guy in check. They were one and the same, as much as he hated it sometimes.

But you didn’t.

Bruce pounded away at your body, pistoning his hips fast and hard, drawing sweet noises and begging whimpers from your lips. Those quickly gave way to desperate cries of pleasure - pleasure mixed with pain just this side of not enough. You were so close, so, so close. You went for it, grabbed his hand and wrapped it around your throat. Your eyes met again and both want and hesitation were in his, clear as day.

You nodded, keeping eye contact. The darkened brown of his eyes were almost black with lust and desire, the way his pupils were blown wide.

“Please,” you begged, harshly panting with every snap of his hips, desperately nipping up at his lips.

“Fuck I love you, baby,” he swore before he tightened his grip and gave into the heat and pleasure licking up his spine.

The weight of him above you, his cock filling you just right with each thrust of his hips and the clamping down of his hand on your throat all came together to push you right over the edge into a white-hot orgasm. Your body seized up, walls clamping down on him.

Wave after wave of searing heat and pleasure overtook you, pulling you under and engulfing your entire body. Your hips moved on their own volition, core spasming and rhythmically milking the sides of his cock until he, too, came.

He exploded, shooting hot jets of come deep inside you. The grip he had on your throat tightened further when it first hit him but then you were released as he fell heavy against you.

You gasped, breathing deep, your body hungrily gulping the air it so desperately needed in the moments before. Bruce covered your mouth in a kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, body still shaking but needing to feel him, hold him, know he was there.   

“I love you,” you breathed into his mouth in between kisses, brain still fuzzy but doing it’s level best to be present and in the moment with him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” he breathed into your mouth. “I’m sorry… I missed you so much… I love you,” he murmured.

You didn’t try to shut him up that time, knowing he needed to get it out. You laid there beneath him, trembling, sweaty and relieved.

Happy.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you were back in his arms where you belonged.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was my first Bruce smut. If you liked it, or didn't, let me know what you think.  
> I just always picture Bruce EXTREMELY well endowed and in a constant state of conflict/control with the Other Guy. Said Other Guy simply has to have urges too, ya know?
> 
>  
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr @Caleprwrite


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